It was the morning when she turned,
to have a look, such simple curiosity.
It spelled the end, she entered endless time,
I would, if asked by fate (Oh how I yearned!)
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There never is an end to genuine love - - true and stated well - and therefore it must be defended, and fought for as in all ages - - this poem cries with pathos and appeal - - it is so well penned it involves the reader in its own turmoil.... emotive read....... Fay
Wonderful poem H. So much emotion wrapped in such a short space!
Enjoyed this fine piece of verse H so nicely put together 10+++ Chris